As she speaks in a quieter voice the words begin to infiltrate the false reality and the flashback. Chloe. She knows Chloe and part of her brain starts to focus on that fact. The sights, sounds, and smells that are wracking her mind begin to break up as she whispers the younger woman's name. Her voice is small at first and unsure. Her movements have stopped as she had backed up as far as she could into the wall.
Almost like a person slowly waking from a dream Angela starts to come around back around to her senses. New floods of emotions start to course through her. Shame. Guilt. Embarrassment. They fill the spaces where she had only been able to feel fear. Tears start to roll down her cheeks and she quickly wipes them away with the edge of her doctor's coat. Part of her desperately wants to text Moira about it all, but she knows she also has to face that mess that her PTSD attack had caused. She had mentioned to Chloe that she knew what it was like to suffer from PTSD, but she had hoped that Chloe would never see that side of her. It happened from time to time, most times not as bad as others. Usually she could easily enough brush it off, but her mind had seen too much to not crack around the edges. Even if she was well put together she had her moments.
"Oh...Chloe...I... I am so sorry." Her voice was smaller than she wanted it to be, and she knew she had to find a way to pull it together and be the adult. A child shouldn't have to witness this or take care of her. She was the adult. Yet, the more she pushed herself to get up the harder the tears fell. At the same time she mumbled apologies for her behavior.
no subject
Almost like a person slowly waking from a dream Angela starts to come around back around to her senses. New floods of emotions start to course through her. Shame. Guilt. Embarrassment. They fill the spaces where she had only been able to feel fear. Tears start to roll down her cheeks and she quickly wipes them away with the edge of her doctor's coat. Part of her desperately wants to text Moira about it all, but she knows she also has to face that mess that her PTSD attack had caused. She had mentioned to Chloe that she knew what it was like to suffer from PTSD, but she had hoped that Chloe would never see that side of her. It happened from time to time, most times not as bad as others. Usually she could easily enough brush it off, but her mind had seen too much to not crack around the edges. Even if she was well put together she had her moments.
"Oh...Chloe...I... I am so sorry." Her voice was smaller than she wanted it to be, and she knew she had to find a way to pull it together and be the adult. A child shouldn't have to witness this or take care of her. She was the adult. Yet, the more she pushed herself to get up the harder the tears fell. At the same time she mumbled apologies for her behavior.